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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506318">Calling Old Friends</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/v0idfishing/pseuds/v0idfishing'>v0idfishing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Michael Afton is Punk, Michael Afton is Trans, Mike/Carlton kind of, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Charlotte Emily, Probably some spooky mystery solving, She/They pronouns for charlie, Some Plot, William Afton is alive, is it an au when charlie is technically a high schooler idk, no springtrapping here no sir, somewhat canon compliant, sorry michael, timeline is just wacky, william afton's a+ parenting, written by a trans person, yes this is robo charlie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:22:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/v0idfishing/pseuds/v0idfishing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie (and many of her friends) has not been back to Hurricane for a long time. When she returns to live with her father again after a decade, she reunites with another old friend that she nearly forgot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Afton &amp; Charlotte "Charlie" Emily</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. September 22, 1995</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shit!”</p><p>Charlie slammed on her brakes, just narrowly missing the car speeding in front of her in the school parking lot. Student drivers...she let out a long sigh as she carefully got her car going again and turned into the lot. She had to rush to school that morning, having slept in well past her alarm. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but it definitely soured her mood quite a bit. She hated being rushed. It made her nervous. </p><p>She found a spot and shifted her car into park, then let out a long sigh and leaned back. With a quick shake of her head, she snatched her bag out of the passenger’s seat, took her coffee cup from the cupholder, and climbed out of the car. She glanced down at her watch as she swung her bag over her shoulder and shut the car door with her hip. She wasn’t too late..it would be a good idea to go quickly, but it was unlikely she’d be late. Regardless, she locked her car and walked towards the school in a hurry. Hastily shoving her keys in her bag as she walked, Charlie just made a beeline for the door, blocking out the world around her. So much so that she only barely missed running into the person walking to the door at the same time. She blinked and looked up, a little relieved to see a familiar face when she did. </p><p>Standing beside her and wearing a goofy grin was none other than Carlton Burke, his red hair tousled in such a way that it almost looked deliberate. Almost. </p><p>“Morning, Charlie.” He greeted, pulling open the door and dramatically gesturing for her in an “After you” movement. “You’re a little rushed, too, huh?” He asked, though he was acting anything but rushed.</p><p>Charlie chuckled and stepped through the door. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a hurry.” </p><p>To be fair, it had been a while since she’d seen him at all. He had made it a point to talk with her at least a little every day since the school year started, though she had moved back to Hurricane in early summer. Somehow, he’d barely changed at all. She wasn’t sure if she could really say the same for herself.</p><p>Carlton walked in after Charlie, trying to keep up with her pace. She didn’t make it a point to ignore him, but she was definitely more preoccupied with getting to class. Students shuffled past, all going their separate ways to do whatever they needed. In that moment, Charlie became acutely aware that all of these people had their own lives, their own businesses to attend to. The feeling faded quickly, though. </p><p>“You got any big plans for this week?” Carlton offered as they turned a corner. His first period was nowhere near where hers was but he could stand being a little late.</p><p>Charlie shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. “Not really. Just..school, I guess.”</p><p>“Aw, boring,” Carlton pouted jokingly, stopping beside her as they reached her classroom.</p><p>Charlie rolled her eyes and snickered. “Go to class, Carlton.” She gave his arm a light shove.</p><p>“Fine, fine!” He held his hands up in defeat, taking a step away. “I’ll catch up with you later.” With a wave, he turned and made his way down the hallway. Still in no rush.</p><p>Charlie just barely made it into her seat as the bell rang. She shrugged off her bag and dropped it next to her on the floor. She took a long sip of coffee, leaning far back in her seat and sinking down slightly. It felt like a long day was ahead of her…</p><p>Though barely keeping focus, Charlie made it through her first period. She was feeling a little more awake, actually, since she had caffeine in her system. When the bell rang, she pulled herself out of her seat and was out of the door soon after. Her next class was on the other side of the building, and though the halls weren’t terribly crowded most days, she liked walking through the courtyard in the back to get to class.  The crowd was even thinner than usual when she entered the hallway, but regardless she kept on her path. The fresh air was a nice reset, and she didn’t like breaking her routine. She walked out of the courtyard door, then started rounding the corner. She was stopped, though, by about a dozen people crowding in the middle of the courtyard. </p><p>“Huh?” She muttered to herself, picking up the pace to get a better look. She apologetically shouldered past a few people to see what was causing the ruckus. </p><p>On the ground almost directly in front of her were two boys, both looking relatively equally disheveled. However, the (albeit only slightly) bigger boy was on top of the other, both hands clutching the collar of the other’s shirt.</p><p>“You wanna say that again now?” He spat, staring the other boy straight in the eyes. “Huh?”</p><p>“What?” He grinned up at him. “You afraid to hit me more than once? Daddy not gonna save you?”</p><p>It looked like he was about to say something else, but the other interrupted before he could get it in. “Shut the fuck up!” </p><p>He let go with one hand and wound up for a punch, but was stopped by a voice, coming from the other side of the courtyard.</p><p>“Stop that right now!”</p><p>He dropped his fist and looked up, but didn’t dare loosen his grip on the boy. As he looked up for the sound of the voice, Charlie very briefly caught his eye. Her heart stopped in that brief moment, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. There was something about that boy..she couldn’t put her finger on it at all.</p><p>An adult was now quickly approaching the group, who Charlie recognized as one of the student counselors. Her shoes clacked loudly against the concrete as she rushed over. The crowd parted just enough to let her through, and she stopped right in front of the two boys.</p><p>“Michael, really?” She scolded, eyes trained on the bigger boy. “Let him go. And follow me. Both of you.”</p><p>Michael scoffed, letting go of the other’s shirt. He had been the only thing keeping his head from the concrete, and it dropped against the ground with a slight crack. Charlie winced, and so did he. Michael stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave a quick glare to the few still crowding around. He did not meet Charlie’s eyes again. He did, however, shoulder past her as he followed the counselor into the building. The other boy scrambled to his feet and followed after him, still clearly winded.</p><p>Charlie shook her head and rushed to get inside again. Why had she stayed to watch…? What was with Michael? Had she seen him before? It was a small school, she probably had..yet, it felt like more than that. She was probably going to be late...whatever. One tardy wasn’t the end of the world. Though she wasn’t fond of the thought of the rest of the class having to see her walk in late..</p><p>Charlie managed to make it to her second period in the nick of time. Thank god. The last thing she needed was something else to go awry with her day.</p><p>The next few hours of the day were..normal, for the most part. She was still a little out of it from her late start, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t pull through. But her mind couldn’t stray from the fight she witnessed. It was a pretty irregular occurrence at Hurricane High, but she wasn't interested enough for it to occupy her thoughts so much...so what was going on?</p><p>--------------------</p><p>Lunchtime rolled around, and Charlie was grateful for the free time. She really needed to collect her thoughts. She managed to run into Carlton down the hall, and they walked to the cafeteria together. Carlton was going on a rant about something or other that happened in one of his classes, but Charlie barely picked up on it. What on Earth was bothering her so much?</p><p>"Heellooo?" Carlton sang, waving a hand in front of her face. "Anyone home?"</p><p>Charlie blinked a few times, then shook her head to clear it. "Sorry. Zoned out a little."</p><p>"No kidding!" He turned around to face her, walking backwards and keeping pace with her. "You good, Charlie? You seem totally out of it."</p><p>"Eh.." Charlie started.</p><p>Carlton stopped in his tracks when a hand, firm but gentle, rested on his shoulder to stop him from bumping into someone.</p><p>"Jesus, Carlton, you're going to cause a traffic jam," Jessica peered around his shoulder to look at him.</p><p>"Whooops," Carlton chuckled, turning around again.</p><p>A few of Charlie's old friends other than Carlton had moved back to Hurricane over the past few years. Marla moved right before freshman year because of what she only called "family problems"(easy to interpret,if you knew her). Lamar never left, but he did go to a different middle school than Carlton, one town away. Jessica had moved back her freshman year due to her own personal stress and financial issues that came with life in New York. She insisted that she would move back as soon as she graduated, though. John had briefly left to live with his grandparents until his parents deemed Hurricane “safe” again. It felt..strange, really. Having everyone back again. Charlie was grateful, though.</p><p>Charlie and Carlton followed Jessica into the cafeteria and found where the others were sitting. Marla waved to them enthusiastically. Charlie gave a halfhearted wave in return and took a seat.</p><p>"You all heard what happened earlier today, right?" John offered.</p><p>"What do you mean?" Marla frowned, leaning in closer to the table to look at him.</p><p>"Some kids got in a fight this morning," He clarified. "Nothing big, apparently."</p><p>"Mm!" Charlie straightened up with a quick nod. "I actually witnessed the tail end of it. I don't think either of them got more than a few hits in…"</p><p>"I'm pretty sure one of the kids involved was Michael Afton," Lamar chimed in.</p><p>Charlie nearly choked on her water. "I'm- I'm sorry, Michael Afton?"</p><p>It all came back to her at once. No wonder she was so bothered by Michael's presence all day. She was almost surprised that she forgot him, but...it had been a long, long time since she'd seen any of the Aftons.</p><p>She remembered sitting in the car, no older than 5 or 6, sitting in the middle seat to serve as a barrier between Michael and his younger brother. Chris needed room for his car seat, anyway. Henry always offered to carpool the Afton kids when their father was already at work, so Charlie had this middle-seat experience relatively often. Elizabeth never went, though. She was apparently scared of Henry, and wanted to be with her father as much as possible. Michael was her friend, she remembered. He was weird, and kind of mean, but he was pretty nice to her, and played with her when her father was preoccupied somewhere else.</p><p>She didn't like the way he said her name, she remembered. <i>Chah-lie,</i> he pronounced it. <i>No, it's Charlie,</i> she would tell him, but he just frowned at her. The Aftons had weird voices, she told her father, but he just laughed. They were called accents, he said, some people had different ways of talking based on where they grew up. She stopped correcting Michael after that.</p><p>"Charlie?" Lamar repeated, raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you know Michael?"</p><p>"Uh-" She cleared her throat awkwardly, still a little dazed. "Uh, sort of? I-..I mean, I knew him when I was little. My dad..worked with his dad.”</p><p>Strange. She could remember Michael and his siblings once she remembered their last name, but...she couldn’t remember a single thing about their father. Or their mother, for that matter.</p><p>“Ah,” Marla hummed softly, trying to choke down her clear disapproval. Any mention of Henry’s old work was...still taboo. </p><p>“Did he recognize you?” Carlton asked, just barely done swallowing a bite of food.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Charlie shook her head. “We...made eye contact, but I don’t think either of us..knew.”</p><p>“Huh,” Carlton clicked his tongue. “Well, Michael starting a fight isn’t surprising, it’s hardly the first time.”</p><p>Charlie couldn’t say she was surprised. Michael was only a year older than she was, but even when he was young he was a troublemaker. He was always teasing his siblings about one thing or another, or acting out some other way. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person, but...definitely a handful, especially for a parent.</p><p>“Still,” Jessica chuckled softly. “Even a little fight constitutes big news in Hurricane.”</p><p>-------------</p><p>Charlie’s thoughts were less occupied for the rest of the day. Sure, suddenly remembering an old childhood friend in such a way was strange, but not enough to plague her thoughts for longer than they already had. Maybe she’d try to talk to Michael when she got the chance….maybe not. Who knew if he even remembered her?</p><p>She made her way out of the front entrance, one backpack strap slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand. She was just about to cross the threshold from sidewalk to parking lot when a voice caught her attention.</p><p>"Charlotte?"</p><p>It sounded so formal, it nearly made her jump. Still, she knew before she even turned around who was calling her name. Who else in Hurricane had a strong british accent?</p><p>"I am she," Charlie responded before she even turned all the way around.</p><p>"It's, uh, been a while?" This Michael Afton was not the Michael Afton she had made eye contact with just a few hours ago. Sure, there were a few signs of the scuffle, a small, fresh bruise on his right cheekbone, bits of dirt still clinging to his jeans, but..he looked calm, fine. And…<i>had he grown a mullet since Charlie had last seen him?</i></p><p>"You could say that again," Charlie hummed, trying not to show how awkward she felt. What do you say to someone you haven't seen since you were seven? "How...have you been?"</p><p>Michael just shrugged, and Charlie could tell that even he wasn't sure why he had approached her. "Fine, I guess. Uh..weird."</p><p>"I can imagine," Charlie shook her head slowly. As little as she remembered about the Aftons, she did know for sure that after the disappearances at Freddy's, the family was completely cut off from hers.</p><p>"How are you?" Michael shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes drifting to the ground. </p><p>"I guess I'm fine, too," Charlie responded, gripping at her backpack strap with both hands. And it wasn't a lie, necessarily. She was okay, but adjusting to living with her father again after years was difficult, to say the least. She loved him, and he was still as good a father as she remembered, but the tension was still so clear.</p><p>Michael hesitated before asking his next question. "How's...How's your dad?" He asked as if whether or not Henry even <i>existed</i> was a mystery.</p><p>"He's…" Charlie inhaled deeply. "..He's okay, considering. I, I mean, last time I saw him I was seven and he was having a nervous breakdown, so…" She attempted at humor, but the joke died before it left her lips.</p><p>"Heh," Michael forced a breathy laugh, clearly trying not to make her uncomfortable. There was another pause. "I'll...uh, see you later?"</p><p>"Oh-" Charlie spoke before she could even think. "I can….um, I can give you a ride home, if you need?" She offered, holding up her car keys. Why was she even offering..? <i>Oh god she made it more awkward oh-</i></p><p>"Sure," Michael shrugged, not even looking the slightest bit uncomfortable or surprised.</p><p>"I, uh.." Charlie paused, not expecting his reaction. "..Cool. Let's go, then."</p><p>And so, Charlie Emily drove home with a friend she hadn't seen in a decade.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. September 23, 1995</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Content Warnings for this chapter:<br/>- smoking<br/>- implied child abuse/controlling parenting<br/>- some suicidal ideation?</p><p>Also I promise the chapters wont always be day-to-day I just happened to write this one as a next-day event</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael always hated the smell of smoke as a kid. His father was a social smoker, usually having a cigarette in hand while he charmed guests on their back porch. So, for a good portion of his childhood, he associated the pungent smell of cigarette smoke with his father and the stupid gatherings he threw. He was almost grateful when it became just him and his father in the house, and he stopped inviting guests over. Almost.</p><p>Michael hated the smell of smoke. And yet there he was, sitting in some dingy grocery store alleyway, taking too long a drag of a cigarette next to someone he could barely call a friend. </p><p>"Friends" came and went faster than he could remember their names, but he did enjoy the company, however short or unpleasant it may have been. Michael didn't really attract the best type of kids, but they weren't all that bad to hang around with if you played your cards right. Most burnouts and stoners were more bearable than regular people, anyway. Well, no, most of them were assholes or didn't talk at all. But some of them were bearable. Enough of them.</p><p>“Lot on your mind?” The groggy teen next to Michael spoke up, almost sounding amused.</p><p>"Eh," Michael huffed quietly before taking another drag. "Same as usual."</p><p>"Yeah…" He slumped slightly down the brick wall, eyes trained on the sky. "..Same as usual.."</p><p>Michael could still remember the first time he tried smoking. He was 13, still an angry preteen trying to vent his rage in every destructive and unhealthy ways possible. In a lot of ways, he hadn't changed since then. Still, he was a stupid kid. He started hanging out with kids considerably older than him, most of them 15, 16, or even 18. They asked him if he'd ever smoked a cigarette before, and he lied, told them that <i>yeah, of course he had,</i> and then proceeded to cough his lungs out as soon as the tobacco touched his lips. His friends laughed at him, but he learned.</p><p>Now it was a comfort. The smell, the taste, the <i>action.</i> It was calming, it was fun, and William would've hated it if he knew. He didn't, of course, but Michael still relished in the thought of doing something his father would hate. He had the exact same mentality at age 15 when he bleached and dyed his hair bright pink with shitty box dye. It looked awful, it stained the bathroom, his dad made him dye it back, but it was exhilarating. </p><p>So, Michael kept doing little things to spite his father. Just mostly inconsequential things that wouldn't get him in too much trouble, just enough to piss William off. He wasn't the perfect son, never had been and never would be, and he relished that fact. He'd rather die than make <i>him</i> proud.</p><p>Michael took one last drag before putting out the cigarette on the ground and turning his gaze downward.</p><p>His gaze landed on a robin hopping through the litter-covered parking lot, and for some reason he thought back to Charlie. To...Charlotte. There was a time where he called them Charlie, when the two were close enough for nicknames. But it felt weird now. They'd both become such different people, such bigger people, he didn't feel ready to call them Charlie again. Maybe someday. If they even wanted to get closer. </p><p>His only memories of Charlie consisted mostly of car rides that felt like an eternity(but were no longer than 20 minutes at most), playing weird games with the toys their father made for them, and then..they're just gone. </p><p>His time with them the previous day was nice, though. Not very long, since it didn't take much time to drive anywhere in Hurricane, but nice. All that either of them managed was more small talk, but he enjoyed getting to know them again. They were definitely a better driver than him, too.</p><p>Michael had asked them to stop about a block before his house, and somehow managed to play it off as his house. Well, that was a pro of not seeing someone for ten years. No one was expected to remember the exact location of a house they hadn't seen since they were a kid. </p><p>He was used to walking home, so he made sure to make ample time between when he was dropped off and when he actually entered the house. William would've asked, of <i>course</i> he would've asked. And if he could avoid (or at least prolong) his father figuring out that the Emilys were back in town, he'd prefer to do so.</p><p>It was as he was recalling his interactions with Charlie the previous day that Michael realized something. Did he..want to keep talking to Charlie? He liked being around them, that wasn't the problem. It was becoming clear that he was probably going to have to keep their friendship secret from his father, if they actually became friends again at all. Michael barely told him about his outside life, anyway, and...he couldn't help but feel like he might be putting Charlie and her father in danger if he mentioned that they were back.</p><p>----------</p><p>Charlie knew when their father was uncomfortable. He wasn't very good at hiding it in the first place. And they knew he wasn't yet comfortable with having them in the house, nor comfortable being a father again. She hadn't completely lost contact with him after she moved in with Aunt Jen, but a few inconsistently scheduled phone calls a month were very different from raising a child again, raising a teenager. Henry tried so hard to hide it, tried so hard to be the strong father figure Charlie needed and should never have lost. But they could tell. They could see it in when his hands shook while he handed them cups of tea, how he touched them as if they were made of glass, the uncertainty in his voice every single time he talked to them. It didn't bother them much, though. No. No, it bothered them a lot, but they couldn't blame him. After all, they were having their own problems getting used to living with him again. Going from Aunt Jen's relatively small urban apartment back to the old, creaky house in a small town was jarring, to say the least.</p><p>It wasn't even close to being the first time that Charlie had talked to Henry since moving. Their own phone calls with their father were..largely uninteresting, for the most part. He would ask how they're doing, what was going on with school, and they'd answer, feel awkward, then manage to ask how he was. He was always "just fine." And maybe some days he was, but most of them he clearly wasn't.</p><p>Jen's conversations...Charlie never heard one in full, she always shuffled them to their room before she started talking to her brother. But they usually managed to pick up a little bit, when Jen got louder. Their more recent memories of her calls with him were peppered with <i>Are you sure, is it really safe, are you okay, make a decision on your own for once, I'll think about it.</i> It wasn't too hard to understand their sibling dynamic without even seeing them interact. Charlie learned a lot about their father just from hearing the way Jen talked with him. But they tried to ignore it, tried to hold onto those joyful moments with him. They weren't fake or anything, they knew that, but...the past decade had exposed them to a side of her father that felt...weird. Henry was their hero, the strongest, kindest man they knew. The idea of that strength being shattered by a few phone calls...it still baffled them.</p><p>So, they didn't bring it up, not really. They flashed encouraging smiles, they were as patient as possible, they tried not to ask for too much. It didn’t help the awkward distance between them, though. He still felt like a ghost of the father they remembered.</p><p>And Charlie didn’t like being around this ghost so often. So, they decided that they were going to take a Saturday afternoon walk. The fall weather was chilly enough to justify a jacket, so they shrugged their favorite denim jacket over their shirt, waved a short goodbye to Henry, and stepped outside. A slight chill hit their face as they did, and they smiled. They missed being able to do this. Very few places with much peace or nature existed where Aunt Jen lived, and while Hurricane wasn’t the greatest place for scenery, it was definitely better than concrete plains. </p><p>They knew exactly where they were going as they stepped outside. There weren't a whole lot of interesting places in small midwestern towns, but Hurricane was lucky enough to have its decent amount of surrounding woods. Charlie was so little the last time they saw those woods, and they felt so big. Still, something about the open expanse of nature was comforting, even back then. </p><p>Charlie was taking a straight path to a familiar spot in those woods when something caught their attention. Someone, to be more specific.</p><p>“Oh! Charlotte!”</p><p>They paused in their tracks, turning their head to get a better look at who called. They didn’t really need to, though. That voice was recognizable instantly. Still, they turned to see Michael Afton pulling himself from his sitting position on the ground beside a building to greet them. They waved back in response.</p><p>Michael stopped about a foot away, suddenly looking as if he had just done something embarrassing. “..Hey.”</p><p>“Hey,” Charlie tilted their head slightly. “What are you up to?”</p><p>“Not much,” Michael started to regain his composure the more he talked. “You?”</p><p>“I was just gonna go take a walk in the woods,” They hummed. “Do some soul-searching, you know?” They joked with a breathy chuckle.</p><p>“Ah,” Michael shoved his hands into his pockets. "...Could I join you on that walk, maybe?"</p><p>"Oh!" They hummed. It wasn't that they didn't want him to join, they just...didn't expect it? "Totally." They gestured with their shoulder in the direction they were walking. "Let's go, then."</p><p>Michael just gave a stiff nod and followed a few steps behind them. He started to feel more awkward by the second. <i>God, that was stupid. They probably wanted time alone. You made it weird.</i></p><p>"You don't have to act like a stranger, you know," Charlie interrupted his thoughts, turning their head to look at him as they walked. </p><p>"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry," Michael stammered, speeding up to walk by their side.</p><p>"You're such a weirdo," Charlie laughed, shaking their head.</p><p>The two were content to stay silent the rest of the walk. It wasn't like either of them had much small talk left, anyway.</p><p>Charlie stopped after a while, and Michael followed suit. </p><p>"I used to dream about hanging out right here, when I was older," Charlie began, looking around the small outcropping of trees they had stopped at. It was barely out of the way of town- they could still see a few buildings not too far away. Still, it felt significantly more private than the rest of Hurricane. "You know, just...going out to the woods on my own. I don't even know what I thought I would do, I just liked the idea of going somewhere secret by myself."</p><p>"No, I get that," Michael chuckled, moving to sit down at the base of a tree. "It's nice. To...be alone, I mean. Sometimes."</p><p>"Yeah…" Charlie nodded, sitting about half a foot away from him. "It's...good to have some company sometimes, though."</p><p>"Heh," Michael turned his head up towards the sky for a few moments, then looked back down to reach into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes he had opened not half an hour ago, then flipped the top open and gingerly held it out towards Charlie. One of his eyebrows raised.</p><p>"No thanks," Charlie shook their head at the offer. "Don't wanna die before I'm 23."</p><p>"I do."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>There was a silence yet again, and Michael reached into his other front pocket for his lighter. He paused as his fingers curled around it, though, and he looked to Charlie again.</p><p>"You aren't...uncomfortable with it, are you?" He asked, genuine and quiet. " 'Cause I can, uh, I don't have to…" He trailed off.</p><p>Charlie hesitated, glancing to the side for a moment, then back at him. "Eh. If-..If you want, I don't care?"</p><p>He paused, brow furrowed, then carefully put his lighter back into his pocket, followed by the cigarette pack. It just felt..weird, and he could tell Charlie wasn’t entirely comfortable. So, he readjusted his sitting position and looked ahead of him. Silence, again. Not uncomfortable this time, just a silence. A bit of movement caught Michael’s eye, and his gaze caught a rabbit a few meters away. He could feel his nose scrunch up subconsciously as he watched it. He never was a big fan of rabbits.</p><p>“You don’t have to call me that,” Charlie’s voice broke him from his trance.</p><p>“What?” Michael asked, almost startled as he turned his attention back to them.</p><p>“You call me Charlotte,” They clarified. “You don’t have to. It’s...too formal. Weird. It’s-...what my dad calls me.”</p><p>“Ah,” Michael clicked his tongue and nodded slightly. One hand moved to brush his hair from his face. “So, Charlie then?”</p><p>“Yeah,” A little smile crept onto their face. </p><p>“Heh,” Michael breathed, and he couldn’t help but smile a little himself.</p><p>Another pause.</p><p>“Could you...call me Mike, then?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Uh..” Michael rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away briefly. “...Michael is what my dad calls me. I..like Mike better.”</p><p>Funny, that they had the same reason for using nicknames, yet those reasons couldn’t be further apart.</p><p>“Sure thing, Mike.”</p><p>------</p><p>Michael hated the smell of smoke. So, he made sure to enter his house through his bedroom window so he could change into clothes that didn't smell so heavily of cigarettes. In the past several years he had mastered getting in and out of his house without being detected. It became especially important when he was suddenly the only person alone in his house with William. </p><p>It was a simple plan, really. He'd turn on his radio, loud but not so loud that dad would yell at him to shut it off, but loud enough to cover most sounds he made while leaving through the window. The music gave him a halfway decent alibi, too. William was merciful enough to keep the lock on his door, and had only one resorted to breaking it down. Regardless, Michael didn't actually care too much if he got caught. It wasn't anything new or anything even that scary anymore. Well, most of the time.</p><p>He shrugged off his thoughts and climbed into his bed. He intended to spend the rest of this Saturday the way he spent most Saturdays- curled up in bed, with his door locked, and letting his mind rot as he played his music a little too loud. But maybe this time, he’d let himself think. He was friends with Charlie Emily again, and he felt something that he hadn’t in a very long time. It felt like there was someone out there who really, actually cared about him. Even if it was only a little.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. September 26, 1995</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Content Warnings for this chapter:<br/>- Talk of/Aftermath of nightmares<br/>- Implied child death</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie woke up screaming.</p><p>It was so cold, and the rain was heavy, and everything hurt so much. And it still hurt when she woke up. She clutched at her chest, breathing heavy and sweat running down the back of her neck. After just a few seconds, tears pricked at her eyes, and she burst into sobs. Her cries sounded tiny in comparison to the pounding rain against her window.</p><p>Another moment later, and there were footsteps in the hallway. And then her door was open, and then her father was kneeling beside her bed.</p><p>"Hey.." He muttered, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, it's alright.."</p><p>Charlie tensed at the touch, but softened slightly as he spoke. Her entire body was still shaking as she cried, and she quickly moved to hug her father tightly. She could feel him flinch, just a little. He didn't let go, though. Henry made gentle shushing sounds as he rubbed circles on her back, just trying to steady her breathing.</p><p>The two stayed like that for longer than Charlie would like to admit, and she finally calmed down enough to pull away to wipe the tears from her eyes.</p><p>"Bad dream?" Henry whispered. Charlie nodded, and he sighed. "Happens to the best of us…"</p><p>Charlie shivered slightly. Why was it so cold..? Her window was closed, and she was still wrapped in her comforter….That intense pain from her dream had faded to a dull ache in her chest, though. And she had her dad...it would be okay.</p><p>"Do..Do you...want to talk about it?" Henry asked after a moment, sounding entirely unsure. </p><p>"I.." She trailed off, staring down at the end of her bed. "I don't know if I can…? I can't...r-remember…"</p><p>"Ah," He bit back a wince, clearly feeling like he did something wrong. "Alright...can I get you anything?" </p><p>"Um.." Charlie swallowed. "Glass of water, please?"</p><p>Henry nodded. "Of course." He pulled himself to his feet. He brushed some curls from her face and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before moving out of the room.</p><p>Henry found himself stopping at the stairs to take a deep breath. His heart was still pounding...hearing Charlie scream wasn't exactly a pleasant way to wake up. But it was just a nightmare. She wasn't hurt...she was fine.</p><p>Having Charlie back was a difficult transition, to say the least. Having her back in Hurricane at all felt like some giant risk, but..she deserved to come back to her hometown, deserved to be with her father again. He understood that, but...there was so much she didn't know. So much she would probably never remember. And that terrified him. She was in danger she could never even understand… but he would keep her safe. He had to. He had pushed down a lot of protective urges the past few months, trying not to hover over Charlie too much. She was 17, more than old enough to know what was safe and what wasn't. Not to mention he knew how much emphasis Jen had put on self defense. He supposed he had himself to blame for her concern about people knowing how to defend themselves… </p><p>Charlie wrapped her comforter around herself tightly, still shivering in the phantom chill. She tried as hard as she could to recall her nightmare, but...nothing useful. It was cold, and she hurt, and...was Bonnie there? No, not Bonnie. Bonnie didn't look like that. But...dreams did work in obscurities, after all. Thinking too hard about it made her head hurt, though, so she just stopped. She was feeling a little warmer now...her head was still pounding, though. At least she didn't have to deal with this alone…Aunt Jen was nice, but her way of dealing with negative emotions...wasn't the best. She didn't have quite the empathy her brother had. She was more of a "find a solution immediately" kind of person. It was helpful sometimes, but in this particular moment Charlie was grateful to have her father.</p><p>Henry arrived back upstairs a few minutes later, holding a glass of water. He sat back down next to her bed and held it out to her.</p><p>"Thanks, dad," Charlie took the water gratefully and took a long drink.</p><p>"It's...about 5 in the morning," Henry explained. "Do you think you'll be alright to go to school today? I can-"</p><p>"I'll be fine," Charlie cut him off, shaking her head. "..Thanks, though. I just...need a bit. But we have time."</p><p>"If you're sure," He furrowed his brow.</p><p>Charlie looked up at him. "Promise. I'll be okay."</p><p>"...Alright. Alright."</p><p>---</p><p>Charlie gave up on going back to sleep, even after she felt calm enough to. She'd have to get up in about half an hour, anyway. She had instead decided to start getting ready for school a little early- she'd have enough time to get something from the coffee shop beforehand that way.</p><p>She was on the way to school now, iced coffee in one hand and the other on the steering wheel. She felt...empty? That wasn't quite the right word, but...she just felt tired. And it was hard to think about much. Lack of sleep would do that to you. Hopefully the caffeine would help.</p><p>That empty feeling started following her throughout the day, though. She sat in her classes, just trying to retain anything, but her mind felt completely blank. All she could do was drift back to that nightmare...why was she still thinking about it? No way she'd remember anything new hours later. </p><p>Well, that's what she thought, anyway. For some reason, the image of...whatever that thing was that was...not Bonnie, but something like him burned into her brain. But it was almost like something symbolic, Like whatever meaning her dream might have had was only represented in abstract symbols instead of real concepts. She remembered the rain, too. Not just the rain that had been pouring that morning and was still drizzling outside then, but the heavy rain from that nightmare. The kind that soaked you through to your bones and made it hard to see. It probably didn't mean anything, though. Just a bad dream, was all.</p><p>---</p><p>The feeling lifted some when Carlton waved her over to a cafeteria table. Maybe just talking to people would get her out of that weird funk. She gave the group a wave as she sat down, then took a deep breath.</p><p>"Zoning out again?" Carlton raised an eyebrow. </p><p>"Oh," Charlie laughed weakly. "No, just...had a weird morning. Little out of it." </p><p>"Ah," He nodded, popping a potato chip in his mouth and barely swallowing before speaking again. "Feels like the rain has everyone in a weird mood."</p><p>"It is pretty gloomy…" Jessica hummed, her gaze flicking to a window. </p><p>Marla scowled. "Yeah, I hate the rain...it's not so bad now, but it was pouring this morning."</p><p>Charlie was barely stopped from zoning out again when someone moved to her side, standing several inches away from the table. She quickly turned her attention to them, and a little smile found its way onto her face as she recognized who it was.</p><p>"Hey, Mike. You...can join us, if you want?"</p><p>That was all the assurance Michael needed. He dropped down next to Charlie, his bag quickly following on the floor behind him. He just gave a quick wave to the rest of the table, who seemed an equal mix confused and worried. She couldn't blame them, Michael didn't exactly have the greatest reputation.</p><p>"How are you?" Charlie asked, trying not to let the awkwardness set in.</p><p>"Eh, same as usual," Mike shrugged, gingerly placing his hands on the edge of the table. </p><p>Carlton seemed to pick up on the attempt to shift the mood. "Can I ask what was up with that fight the other day?" He sounded casual, but Jessica exchanged a look with Charlie that <i>maybe he shouldn't have asked that.</i></p><p>"Oh," Michael rolled his eyes. "That was just Jack, he's a dick."</p><p>"But you didn't get in trouble for it?" Marla leaned in a little closer.</p><p>"Not really," Michael answered. "Staff here love my dad, so…" </p><p>Charlie was once again reminded how little she remembered about Michael's father. It wasn't unusual to have memory gaps from years ago. Still, that was an important part of her life. She almost felt guilty for not remembering more…</p><p>The group talked in that slight tension until they had to leave. Charlie couldn't help but watch her friends during the conversation, trying to gauge their opinions on Michael. She wasn't quite sure why, but...she really wanted them to like him. It didn't matter much, not really, but, hey, Mike would probably appreciate some new friends. Probably. She wasn't actually sure.</p><p>The conversation continued with a similar energy until the end of lunch. Charlie tried her best to brighten up the atmosphere, but that was never her strong suit. Not to mention that the rain outside didn't help.</p><p>Charlie was still shoving things back into her bag when her friends dispersed, and she was a little startled to see Michael still standing there when she turned around. </p><p>"Uh, what do you have next?" Mike's stance made him look out of place in his own skin. </p><p>"Oh, um…" Charlie clicked her tongue, taking a couple seconds to think. "English, why?"</p><p>"You wanna hang with me instead?" His entire posture relaxed, and he looked natural again. "I'd rather do...literally anything else than go to calculus right now."</p><p>She paused. Charlie wasn't the perfect student, far from it, but skipping class wasn't exactly her thing.</p><p>Then again, she was more than caught up in her Literature class anyway. And Mike seemed pretty excited to spend some time with her…</p><p>"Sure," She shrugged, then pulled her bag on properly.</p><p>She could barely see Mike suppress his grin. "Right. Let's go, then."</p><p>Charlie followed close behind Mike as he lead her out of the nearest door and kept going until Mike stopped by a wall just one right turn from the courtyard.</p><p>"This is where I'm usually at, so…" He shrugged, taking a seat against the wall.</p><p>Charlie nodded, then dropped her bag on the ground and sat next to him. Normally she'd be bothered by the rain and wet concrete, but it almost felt refreshing, then. "...Calculus, huh? Sounds like lots of fun." She joked sarcastically, looking over at him.</p><p>Mike snorted. "Yeah, tons." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Let me guess, AP Lit? You're smart enough."</p><p>Charlie shook her head quickly. "Oh my god, do not do that."</p><p>"Do what?" </p><p>"Tell me that I'm too smart, that you've never met a girl like me?" She scrunched up her nose. Mike didn't seem the type to be her friend just for that, and yet…</p><p>"That's not-" Michael put his face in his hands as he laughed. "Not what I meant, you know it. I know better than that, I saw you misspell crayon for the first 5 years of your life."</p><p>Charlie made a sound of mock offense. "I take it back, I'd rather you oversell me."</p><p>"First it was c-r-a-e-n, right?" He continued on. "Then you managed to get to c-r-a-n…"</p><p>"I get it," Charlie gave him a light shove in the arm.</p><p>Mike laughed, balancing himself with one hand as Charlie jostled him. "Alright, alright.."</p><p>He sighed, and leaned back against the brick wall. The sky was still gray, clouded over, and it was cold, but he didn't mind. He couldn't help but be reminded of an event in junior high, where he churned out some shitty poetry comparing his mind to storm clouds. And all it earned him was a B and a conversation with his english teacher after class.</p><p>That happened somewhat often, those after class conversations, especially after Chris. It was the worst when he had finally returned to school again after being away because of the incident. For weeks all he heard was <i>I'm so sorry that happened to you, send your family my wishes, I'm here if you need it.</i> It made him nauseous. Guilt and anger churned in his stomach every day for so long, it only made it worse that he didn't puke it out.</p><p>In some ways, he did. Only in little bursts. He hated to admit it, but sometimes it did feel good to lash out at the other kids, or at teachers, or at school counselors who forced him to visit. But that feeling never lasted long. Soon enough the anger worked its way back in again, and he'd have to start over.</p><p>It was still like that, sometimes, but the wounds weren't so fresh anymore. Though that anger was always at a gentle boil in his chest, it was much easier to ignore now.</p><p>Charlie was helping with that. The way she laughed, and poked fun at him, it was a nice distraction. She had a nice laugh, a sound that came deep from her heart and played like music. </p><p>Was that a normal thing to think about someone's laugh? About how pretty it was? Mike didn't know. But it was fine, right?</p><p>"...Can I ask you something?" Charlie snapped him back to reality. </p><p>Mike couldn't fight the way his stomach tightened at the question. "..Go ahead."</p><p>"I.." She inhaled sharply. "I don't...remember that much about your dad, but I feel like I should? Or...your family at all? I..Should I?"</p><p>Mike took in a long breath through his nose. Oh boy. Still, not the worst question she could have asked. "It's...probably for the best. It's just me and my father in the house now, uh…"</p><p>He furrowed his brow. She should've remembered what happened to his siblings, right? His mother died after Charlie left Hurricane, so he couldn't fault her for that. Still, she should remember Chris, at least. Then again, that was the same year that…</p><p>"Oh," Charlie furrowed her brow. Mike could see the gears turning in her head. "...I don't...I'm sorry, I didn't-"</p><p>"H-Hey, it's okay," He scrambled to sit up and turn to look at her. "You didn't know, it's a fair question to ask." Was he misremembering? No, no he wasn't. She could've blocked it out, or maybe she never knew...that didn't matter, he could tell she genuinely didn't know. </p><p>"Yeah, It's just…" She trailed off, then just shook her head. "Just weird that I can't remember."</p><p>"Don't worry about it," He shook his head.</p><p>The conversation changed direction almost immediately- Michael really didn't want to make Charlie any more confused or upset than she already was. Soon enough, though, she was laughing again, and he felt himself relax. He was finding it hard not to stare at her face, trying to take in every detail that he had forgotten over the decade since they had seen each other.</p><p>Soon enough, the bell rang. Had it already been that long..?</p><p>"Well.." Michael pushed himself to his feet, then wiped his hands on his pants. "You probably don't want to skip any more classes, huh?" A grin crossed his face.</p><p>Charlie chuckled, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Yeah...Thanks for hanging out with me, though. It was fun." </p><p>"Anytime," He nodded.</p><p><i>Anytime,</i> Charlie repeated in her head as she left Michael to get to class. It definitely wasn't a good idea to make a habit of skipping class, but Mike made it feel worth it. Still, it would be a better idea to hang out with him outside of school. Henry would definitely catch on if she kept skipping. She'd ask Mike to hang out after school next chance she got then...maybe invite some of her other friends too. If any of them were up to it...Carlton would be, probably.</p><p>Still, that weird memory gap plagued her mind. Why couldn't she remember anything about the Aftons? Why couldn't she remember what happened to them? Mike acted like she should have remembered, so why couldn't she? Was what happened really so bad that she just...forgot? </p><p>Was that really the kind of thing someone forgets?</p>
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